


The Queen's Arms

by Chaz_1789



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Chance Meetings, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Harry hasn't grown out of bad habits, M/M, Muggle London, OFC - Freeform, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, sort of infidelity but sort of not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-08-20 00:26:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16545245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chaz_1789/pseuds/Chaz_1789
Summary: Harry chuckled, admiring how the light caught the pale locks swept up in Andrea's ponytail when his eyes drifted behind her to the bar. At which stood a figure.A very familiar figure.A figure that looked so jarringly out of place at a muggle bar that Harry very nearly choked on the sip of his pint he'd been in the midst of taking.





	The Queen's Arms

The pub was, typical of a Friday night in London, busy, noisy and smelly. Harry was having to shout to be heard and his companion was having to do the same, even though they had moved off to a less crowded corner.

Andrea was, as always, miles out of Harry's league. Tall, blonde, willowy, with a bright personality, and legs for days. She was great. Casual. Safe. She was also a Muggle who thought Harry was attending Southbank University, and that the most exciting thing he'd ever done was hand in a piece of coursework late – which was fine by him.

He wanted to try the slow life. Wanted the security, calm, and anonymity that going out in Muggle London afforded. Because Harry had been feeling... distinctly _off_ for a while now. He just didn't feel quite settled in his skin, especially not in the wizarding world of late. The war may have been over for a while, but people still idolised him, even though he now spent the majority of his time doing paperwork or sitting in meetings – hardly heroic. He'd hoped that getting away from all that and meeting some new people who didn't fawn all over him might help, and so he'd gone to a random Student Union party he'd seen advertised and met Andrea there. They'd fallen into bed and the next morning agreed that they should do it again some time.

He and Andrea went out every now and again; it wasn't like there was any pressure to do more, to commit more, at least he'd never felt any and she'd not brought it up. She was lovely, and was currently telling him about an eccentric lecturer of hers, who insisted the class yell furiously at the wall before the start of each lesson (apparently for the purpose of what sounded like 'unblocking their cheese'?).

Harry chuckled, admiring how the light caught the pale locks swept up in her ponytail when his eyes drifted behind her to the bar. At which stood a figure.

A very familiar figure.

A figure that looked so jarringly out of place at a Muggle bar that Harry very nearly choked on the sip of his pint he'd been in the midst of taking.

"Oh, what the fuck?" Harry whispered disbelievingly, eyes widening as a second glance revealed that his initial identification had been correct.

"Harry, what's– Jesus, you've gone pale, what is it?"

"Nothing," he said quickly, looking down into his pint glass.

"Oh-ho, _so_ not nothing when you look like _that_ ," Andrea chuckled wickedly. "Tell me!"

Harry sighed heavily. "It's... someone I used to go to school with is over at the bar. _Don't_ look!"

Andrea swivelled on her stool. "Is it... you don't mean Tall Blonde Hottie at the end, do you?"

"Hottie?!" Harry spluttered indignantly.

"Oh, it _is_ him then!" Andrea said, smiling excitedly

"For fuck's sake, don't stare," said Harry desperately, leaning into his hand to hide his face from the direction of the bar.

"Let's go say hi."

"What?! _No!"_

But Andrea was already standing up, striding across the pub and straight up to Draco sodding Malfoy. Harry had no choice but to scramble after her, feeling his stomach sink as she bounced to a stop before Malfoy and opened her mouth.

"Hi!" she said, beaming. "Harry here tells me you went to school together. I'm Andrea, nice to meet you."

Malfoy just looked shocked, staring at Andrea like she had three heads. Then his surprised grey gaze slid over to Harry, and Harry felt the curdled ball that was his stomach wriggle unpleasantly as Malfoy's stare intensified. His attention returned to Andrea again, his face still stricken with tight lipped surprise. Harry felt about as awkward as Malfoy looked but also felt compelled to fill the silence that festered in the wake of Andrea's cheerful greeting.

"Malfoy," he said stiffly.

".....Potter," came the eventual, retentive reply as those cool eyes slid over to him again. It was just one more second of glacial judgement before Malfoy looked back to Andrea who had started talking again.

"I've not met any of Harry's friends yet," she barrelled on, chirpily. "He was kind of shy to come over here but I'm trying to get him to be less introverted. He's a bit sheltered. Getting anything out of him is like getting blood from a stone!" Harry groaned internally as Malfoy's icy stare moved over to him once more. He raised an eyebrow.

"Sheltered introvert... didn't really get that impression at school."

"I, er, didn't expect you to be in a pub in... _this_ part of London," Harry hazarded, willing himself to stop blushing.

"Yes, well I've... moved."

"Moved? You're not in the Manor anymore?"

"The _Manor?!_ Are you a posh boy then?" asked Andrea gleefully, resting her elbows on the bar and looking intently at Malfoy, like he would suddenly start chatting away about his background if she smiled at him enough. Draco simply continued to look constipated and didn't reply.

"Uuuhhhh... so... must've been what, two years now? How've you been?" The look Harry got for his painfully forced small talk indicated just what Malfoy thought of the whole situation. But after a glance to Andrea, Malfoy's eyebrows contracted in a calculating sort of way.

"I've kept busy. Which, apparently, so have you. If you'll excuse me – bathroom." He nodded curtly to both of them, his eyes lingering a little longer on Harry, before he strode, upright, to the back of the pub. Harry watched him go with a frown.

"You know what, I need to go too. Back in a bit," he said hastily, then followed quickly after him. If Andrea said anything in response, it was lost to the ambient noise of the pub as he hurried towards the gents.

Harry pushed open the door and spotted Malfoy at the stalls. He was the only occupant. Suddenly realising that he didn't know exactly what he was hoping to achieve or why he'd followed him in the first place, Harry made his way to the furthest free stall from Malfoy's, unzipped and tried to go. It... was taking a while. Maybe because he was very aware of Malfoy standing only a few feet away from him. Draco bloody Malfoy going for a piss in a muggle pub a few feet away from Harry. It was... how was Harry meant to wee in this situation?

"You should see a Healer if you're having this much trouble," came the snarky voice from his left.

Harry blushed but said nothing. He heard Draco refasten and move to the sinks. Giving up on his endeavour, Harry decided to re-zip and do the same. He reached the sink as Malfoy was still lathering soap on his hands. Harry caught his eye in the mirror as he washed his own.

"What are you doing in this pub, Malfoy?" Harry asked.

"Marrying a horse. What do you _think_ I'm doing? I'm having a drink," Draco shot back.

"No, I just mean... it's a _Muggle_ pub."

"Your astute observations are simply _breathtaking_ , Potter. Thank _Merlin_ you were here to help me!"

Harry rolled his eyes; that much sarcasm was surely bad for one's health.

"So, who was that _lively_ creature I had the pleasure of meeting?" asked Malfoy in a studiously bored voice. "Anna, was it?"

"Andrea. She's my–" Harry didn't have a sure fire way to finish that sentence. "We go out sometimes."

"I get the feeling she is a Muggle?"

"Yeah, so?" said Harry defensively.

"You do know she's mad, right?"

"She's not mad," huffed Harry.

"Mad enough to like you and also charge at a complete stranger."

"She's just not a stuck up ponce," Harry retorted.

"It seems you certainly do have a type, don't you?" said Malfoy, a smirk creeping up onto his lips as he swished his hair out of his eyes with a flick of his head. "She's not a natural blonde, though, I can tell you. I'm certain the carpet doesn't match the drapes."

Harry's jaw fell open. "Christ, could you not talk about her... _upholstery?"_ Of all the inappropriate–

"Isn't that what blokes chat about in the bogs? Girls?"

"Not me."

"Talk about boys, do you?"

"Look, just leave off Andrea, alright?" Harry said shortly, finally moving to take a paper towel from the dispenser. Malfoy moved to do the same. He wasn't going to stand for it if Malfoy started insulting Muggles, not for a second.

"So she really doesn't know anything?" he asked, eyebrow raised, drying off his hands.

"No."

"Has no idea who you are?"

"None."

"That you're a wizard?"

"No."

"About magic at all?"

"Clearly."

"So, essentially... you're lying to her." That took Harry by surprise.

"What? I– it's not lying, I have to abide by the Statute of Secrecy! We've only been seeing each other on and off for a few... months, it's still early days."

"What a spectacular start to a relationship – lying to your girlfriend about your identity. Sheltered introvert indeed." Malfoy threw his scrunched up paper towel into the bin.

"She's not my– look, maybe I don't want her to know." He threw his own used paper towel into the bin, looking away. "It's easier that way."

"Wow, easier to lie to your not-girlfriend for months about who you are. So invested. She must be thrilling."

"Oh, shut the fuck up, Malfoy, she's a damn sight nicer than you," Harry said angrily, glaring back up again. Why did Malfoy always have to get under his skin so badly?!

"Didn't realise you compared all your paramours to me, Potter," Malfoy drawled, leaning arrogantly against the counter.

"I don't," said Harry petulantly, crossing his arms.

"Besides, _nice_ isn't exactly exciting." Malfoy's eyes glittered.

"Nice is fine!"

"Is that what you want? Just 'nice' and 'fine'?"

"Nice is the exact opposite of you, so yes, that's what I want!"

"Yet again, I seem to be the main thought occupying your head when it comes to your partners."

Harry flushed. "Stop obsessing over my love life!"

"You're the one who keeps dragging me into your _nice_ , _fine_ , _boring_ love life," said Malfoy, a sardonic eyebrow raising.

"God, you're just as much of a prick as ever!" Harry huffed, throwing up his hands, frustrated beyond belief. For the first time Malfoy actually looked agitated.

"Excuse me," he hissed angrily, straightening up and advancing forward with menace, "but I was out for a quiet drink, which you then rudely interrupted, and when I tried to extricate myself from the situation you followed me into the toilet!" He'd backed Harry up into the tiled wall by this point and Harry hadn't even thought to reach for his wand. Malfoy smelled like beer and aftershave.

"So, exactly which part of this encounter is my fault, hm?" he asked in a low, dangerous voice.

"I–" Harry was finding it hard to think with Malfoy standing so close, radiating heat, his steely grey eyes boring into Harry's. Adrenaline was quickening his pulse, and his fight or flight instinct was attempting to take the wheel. "You–" he tried again.

"Maybe you just don't like _nice_ ," whispered Malfoy an inch from Harry's face. Harry could feel magic crackling in the air around them raising all the tiny hairs on his body, making his heart beat even faster. Making his insides tingle. "Is that why you followed me, Potter? Because you don't want nice anymore?"

A hand landed on the wall beside Harry's head.

"Because your little habit of following me around in school may have ostensibly been for other reasons, but it was always a little suspect." Harry's stomach jolted as Malfoy glanced down to his lips. Then further down. Harry followed his eyes and saw, to his surprise and utter horror, that a bulge had started to form in the front of his jeans. Malfoy's eyes flicked back up, flashing. "As is _that_ ," he murmured huskily.

"Fuck–" _off, Malfoy_ was meant to be the rest of that sentence, but there was quite suddenly and insistently a mouth-shaped hindrance to his words.

Teeth scraped against Harry's lower lip and then bit harshly down. Harry gasped at the sharp sting and a tongue plunged roughly into his mouth, forcing a noise from his throat. It lasted no longer than a few seconds, then Malfoy was pulling away with a quick inhale. All in all, it was one of the least nice kisses Harry had ever experienced. Confusingly, it was almost certainly the hottest.

Harry caught his breath in shallow huffs. Malfoy was still glaring daggers at him but now with a flush high on his pale cheeks. Now he was aware of it, Harry could feel his jeans getting even tighter. Malfoy licked his lips. Tighter again. Oh, this was _bad_.

"If you think you can handle it," muttered Malfoy silkily. Harry was lost. Possibly in silver eyes, but most definitely in the conversation.

"Wha–?" he asked, stunned into near incoherency.

"We can fuck, if you think you can handle it," Malfoy repeated. "Because I don't do _nice_." And now Harry was less lost, but more convinced he'd gone totally mad. Especially since hearing the word 'fuck' out of Malfoy's mouth so close to his face had caused Harry's trousers to get a whole lot tighter.

For god's sake, they were in a Muggle pub. A Muggle pub bathroom. Andrea was waiting for him outside. This was was a _man_. Who was _Malfoy!_  But...

"Okay," he breathed before he'd even realised what he was going to say.

For a split second, what looked like elation flitted across the pale, pointed face in front of him, before he was being forcefully pinned to the wall and kissed again. Kissed _fiercely_.

Harry's whole body instantly shot through with heat and he felt five firewhiskeys worth of lightheaded all at once! Pressed up like this, Harry could feel each hard line of Malfoy underneath his smart muggle clothes, one hard line in particular getting increasingly more noticeable. Harry wriggled against his captor and managed to clamp his hands onto Draco's taut backside and squeezed. The moan Malfoy let loose at that travelled roughly from their joined mouths all the way down to Harry's toes. Malfoy kissed like he duelled; powerfully, relentlessly and with considerable talent.

God, Harry felt... _alive_. With adrenaline coursing through him, he felt more like himself than he had for a long time. Maybe Malfoy had been right, maybe safe wasn't it for him. Maybe nice didn't cut it. Maybe doing crazy things was just what he needed. Meeting Malfoy in a Muggle pub was crazy enough, but fucking him in that Muggle pub? That... may be a bit too public.

Harry pushed Malfoy back a bit, both men panting into the small space between them.

"Not here," Harry breathed out roughly. Malfoy looked for a second like he was going to argue, but instead he removed his hand from where it had been twisted in Harry's shirt and whipped out his wand.

"Fine." And with a tight grip around Harry's waist, still pressing them from hip to sternum, Malfoy whooshed them into restrictive, pressing blackness.

They reappeared in what was apparently the entrance hallway of a flat, but Harry only got the briefest of looks at it before he was dragged into another rough, brain melting snog. Jesus, Malfoy's tongue was doing some filthy things to him that Harry kind of wanted to feel all over his body all at once. Now they were unlikely to be interrupted by inebriated public house patrons, Harry was ready to embrace the craziness that was getting him so bloody hard.

Harry tugged roughly at the hem of Draco's sweater, attempting to pull it off him. Malfoy leaned back and raised his arms, allowing the garment to be yanked over his head, but quick as a flash he was back on Harry, this time scrabbling at his shirt buttons as they kissed. Half way down he apparently got far too impatient and simply ripped Harry's shirt open with force. Buttons pinged off the floor as they flew haphazardly from his shirt, but soon the material was joining them there as it was shoved back roughly off his shoulders.

Harry planted a firm hand on the back of Draco's head and pulled it to the side, exposing a long column of pale, biteable neck. Harry sank his teeth in, feeling the groan Malfoy made rumble through him, then pulled off, then did it again, sucking a little harder at the clean tasting skin. It was so pale that the mottled bruise rising up under it was visible immediately, it looked satisfyingly dark. Good.

Little things (or not so little really) kept shooting thrills of nervous excitement through Harry at their foreignness. The light stubble his lips encountered on their way up to Draco's jaw. The familiar, snooty, posh, low voice making all manner of unfamiliar noises and words. The lack of breasts and, instead, firm pectorals. The hips like jagged rocks. The protruding hardness that jutted out and hit Harry's own – that one was very hard to miss and was hiking up his heart rate significantly.

Seeking more of that buzz, Harry swung Malfoy into the nearest wall and ground their hips together. Malfoy tried to hold in an undignified kind of grunting moan as Harry circled his pelvis, feeling their twin hard-ons press and slide. It felt like whatever Malfoy was packing down there was not insignificant in size and suddenly, Harry was confronted with the fact that, Gryffindor courage or not – raging boner or not – he'd never done this before, and had no idea what Malfoy was expecting.

But Harry really didn't want them to stop. Or lose momentum. Or really talk more than they had to because nothing would kill the mood more than Draco Malfoy mocking his doubts and questions. So, he figured he'd do what he always did during new endeavours: roll with it and see what happened!

But he wasn't going to be fucking passive, that was for damn sure. Harry deftly thumbed open the button of Malfoy's trousers and eagerly shoved his hand into the tight gap down the front – there was a swift gasp. The ridged, firm shape of Draco's cock through the soft material of his pants was pressed against Harry's palm as Harry resumed their tongue wrestling. He forcefully rolled his hand against its new target. A sharp surge of pain on his shoulders indicated that Malfoy had reactively sunk his nails into the muscle there, and actually... Harry thought he could stand to take that a little harder.

Harry's free hand ran up the ridiculously appealing contours of Malfoy's abdomen and then pincered one small, pink nipple between thumb and forefinger. The nails dug in further and, yes, Harry was sure that Draco could go all out there and it would still feel amazing. The blonde tipped his head back until it thunked against the wall, eyes screwing up and hands grasping at Harry's bare shoulders.

"Fucking hell," he managed to grunt out as Harry took the nipple he'd not previously been flicking and twisting into his mouth. Malfoy writhed against him, then a hand coming to rest at the base of Harry's throat forcibly pushed him back into the opposite wall with a thud that knocked the air out of him!

"My turn," was all the warning he got before his mouth was full on assaulted by Draco, biting, sucking, licking, all the while dexterous fingers unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. But then it was gone. Harry's lips were left aching and bare; he opened his eyes to see where Malfoy had gone and caught the rapid descent of his blonde head as he practically fell to his knees.

Oh.

_Oh!_

Harry's cock was in Malfoy's hand, and he was looking at it hungrily. Then he aimed his gaze upwards and caught Harry's eye. One eyebrow arched up and a wicked smile flashed across Malfoy's face.

Then Harry was swallowed down. Like, actually, to the base, right down into Draco's throat. It had happened so quickly that he'd not had time to mentally prepare himself for it! Harry had received his fair share of blowjobs and it was clear, with a move like that, that Malfoy was no novice. That thought made his stomach jolt a little bit but, before he could discern what those jolts meant, Malfoy swallowed again and Harry's brain stopped thinking about pretty much everything and could only focus exclusively on what Malfoy was doing with his talented mouth.

It was hot, and wet, and deep, and frantic, and everything Harry's body wanted right at that moment. He had his fingers knotted into white blonde hair and the noises Malfoy was making as he enthusiastically moved back and forth made Harry think that he was enjoying this almost as much as Harry was. His tongue pushed and swirled along his shaft and his mouth created just the right amount of suction. Warm fingers were massaging his bollocks and the nails of his other hand were scraping just hard enough down the back of one thigh. Merlin, it felt _so bloody good_.

Malfoy pulled off abruptly and without warning buried his teeth into the skin just inside of Harry's hip bone, and sucked brutally.

"Ah!"

Malfoy looked up, all glinting eyes and shiny lips. "Thought I'd return the favour, so you don't forget too quickly," he rasped, voice rough from how deep he'd been taking Harry's cock.

"Like I fucking could!" said Harry, skin still smarting where it was marked a blotchy purple. The ache scratched a deep itch though. "Do it again," he commanded, and Malfoy smirked again before he latched on to Harry's inner thigh this time. Harry sucked in air through his teeth and groaned as his cock jumped at the satisfying zing of pain that bloomed from the attack.

With a wilful expedience, Malfoy tugged off Harry's shoes, socks, trousers and underpants, leaving him leaning naked against the wall. In a fluid movement that really shouldn't have been as fucking suave as it was, Malfoy stood, letting his grey trousers slither to the floor whilst toeing off his shoes and socks and swishing them all out of the way with one foot. Harry was begrudgingly impressed. Not just by the graceful disrobing (that he was pretty sure not just anyone could pull off, least of all Harry himself) or by Malfoy's fellatio skills, but also by everything he was seeing revealed for the first time tonight.

Malfoy was not a skinny fuck anymore. He wasn't boasting a six pack or anything but he was most definitely in great shape. He was still pale as milk, no change there, and his chest only had the faintest smattering of light hair. And then there was his dick. Harry swept aside the small flutters of jealousy and intimidation and tried to appreciate just how great that dick was. Because he might not have been up close and personal with any others, especially not at full mast, but he'd seen a fair few, and this had to be up there in the top three best looking dicks.

"You just going to look all night?" There was a self satisfied smugness in Malfoy's voice that tweaked Harry's temper. Of course, he had everything to be smug about, the well endowed bastard.

Harry scowled and reached forward to grasp Malfoy's erection firmly, which felt at once familiar and foreign, hard, smooth, and warm. There was a satisfyingly ineloquent grunt from Malfoy. "I'm more of a hands on kind of guy," Harry snarked as he twisted his wrist around to more choked off vocalisations.

He brought Malfoy towards him and stood him close enough that their erections lined up. Malfoy's was leaking clear precome onto Harry's hand as he pumped his fist roughly again, he then stretched his fingers around both their cocks to press them together. There was another inelegant hiss and Harry looked up to check that he was doing the right kind of thing. Malfoy was gazing down at their cocks rubbing together between their bodies with a look of apparent awe; he added his own hand to complete the tight tunnel around them and upped the tempo. It felt bloody great! Not only was the way slicked by Malfoy's saliva and precome but Harry could also feel the hot throbbing pulse coming from Malfoy's dick as it was pressed tightly with his own – with the rate they were going he wouldn't last very long.

Malfoy was still gazing down at their cocks, panting. But Harry couldn't take his eyes off Malfoy's face. His long lashes were fluttering, he bit his swollen pink lower lip as their hands pumped, and he had a tiny crease between his furrowed brows. He was breathing faster and faster, and each time they jerked their wrists Malfoy's light hair bounced in front of his face. Harry felt a flash of irritation as he realised – Andrea had been right: he was fucking _gorgeous_.

Harry brought his left hand up to grab hold of that hair. Malfoy looked up at him, brow crease deepening, and Harry just had to kiss that annoyingly handsome face again. Almost immediately Malfoy feverishly kissed him back, bringing both hands up to clutch desperately onto Harry's face, fingers digging in, and he surged into Harry, plastering their warm bodies flush together. Harry removed his right hand and simply held on to Draco's backside as he thrust harshly against his body making urgent little moans in the back of his throat.

He could probably come just from Malfoy snogging him like a devil and grinding their hips eagerly together. The kisses were palpably needy and Harry found the pure desire Malfoy clearly had for him utterly intoxicating. Draco Malfoy wanted him so much he was moaning for it.

In the rush of frantic rutting and hands, Harry found himself suddenly staring at Malfoy's back as Malfoy turned to face the wall. He grabbed Harry's right hand and ran it deliberately under his arse and up the crease of it, looking challengingly over his shoulder, pupils blown wide and cheeks pink. Some might accuse Harry of being slow (Malfoy top of the list) but he wasn't _that_ slow. Malfoy wanted Harry to fuck him. And, Merlin, he was so up for that it was almost painful.

At least Harry knew what he was doing here, Andrea had wanted to do it a few times, so Harry swiftly grabbed his wand and touched it to Malfoy's arse (using magic would definitely speed up the process). He shivered at the internal cleaning spell and Harry noted the goosebumps that peppered the pale skin of his back. Harry couldn't keep his lips off it, and kissed and bit at the muscled curve of Draco's shoulders. Malfoy gasped at a particularly harsh bite to his neck and shifted to spread his legs a little further as Harry's dry fingers trailed down to his hole.

"Come on," he almost whined as Harry simply ran his finger teasingly over his rim. Then an idea fixed itself in Harry's head and he simply couldn't _not_ do it.

Sinking to his knees, Harry pulled Draco's cheeks apart and ran his tongue over the ridged muscle. There was a gasp and a bitten off expletive from above him, so he did it again. His fingers dug into the fleshy globes of Malfoy's arse, which felt so satisfying. Knowing there'd probably be little fingertip bruises there tomorrow morning was a thought that sent another surge of blood to Harry's already throbbing cock. He enthusiastically licked and sucked and nibbled at Malfoy's entrance to a litany of breathy moans and 'oh fuck's. Only when Malfoy's thighs started to tremble slightly did Harry finally scrabble for his wand, conjur some lube into his hand and then slip his slick finger into Malfoy to barely any resistance at all. God, his body was hot.

"More," Malfoy said almost straight away, and Harry grinned, adding a second finger and feeling the muscles flutter and clench around them. After only a minute or so of two fingers, during which Harry kissed and bit at most of the skin before him, Malfoy grunted, " _Ngh_ , more." And far be it for Harry to deny a request so eloquently put. At three digits, the tightness started to worry Harry a little but apparently this was exactly what Malfoy wanted because he rocked back onto Harry's hand now, thighs still shaking ever so slightly.

Harry watched his fingers disappear into Malfoy's body and pressed his hand against his own cock to relieve some of the mounting pressure. The perfect, pale, smooth globes of Malfoy's glorious arse were hypnotising, the ripple of muscles across his back and thighs ridiculously hot, and Harry had just the best view from down on his knees. He was enjoying this, a fucking lot, but he kind of needed to get his dick in there. He slipped his left hand up to Malfoy's waist and urged him down.

"Malfoy, on your knees."

Malfoy sank down before him, and Harry's fingers slipped out. Hastily Malfoy reached for Harry's wand on the floor beside them and Harry had the briefest flash of worry that he was about to have his bollocks hexed off, until he heard Malfoy whispering what he recognised as a protection spell that sent a tingling around his dick for a moment. Jesus, Harry was so wound up that he'd not remembered to do that himself; that was not good, he was usually so diligent about it. Trust Malfoy to make him stupid. Because he _was_ stupid right now; stupid, crazy, painfully turned on and really, actually about to be inside Draco Malfoy!

Running his hands up Malfoy's spine, Harry took a second to appreciate what was about to happen. A moment too long apparently.

"Fingers or cock, Harry, but you better put something back in me right this second after winding me up like that," Malfoy huffed out irritably and Harry smirked. He rubbed the rest of the remaining lube from his fingers over his sensitive neglected dick, which almost ached in readiness, and then, just to piss him off, Harry moved forward and simply rubbed his cock behind Malfoy's balls and over his rim. After a few teasing strokes Malfoy let out a frustrated growl, reached back, took hold of Harry and impaled himself roughly back onto his cock.

Harry gasped and Malfoy groaned.

The instant, hot, wet, constant pressure was a bit of a sensory overload and as Malfoy clenched around him it punched the air from Harry. He blinked a few times to come back to the present. Fuck, this felt incredible. Fuck, he could feel Malfoy's pulse. Malfoy let out a contented sigh and tipped back his head. As gently as he could manage, Harry rocked his hips forward a bit and felt Malfoy flutter and tighten around him.

Harry pumped, slow and steady a few more times into Malfoy's tight body and it was fucking incredible. Slotted up right behind him, Harry was buried as deep into Malfoy as he could possibly be in this position and he looked down to watch himself slide in and out of Malfoy's spectacular arse.

"For fuck's sake, Potter, fuck me like you mean it!" said Malfoy, impatiently, swinging a hand back to dig its nails into the side of Harry's arse – yet again Harry wished he'd do it harder. Not one to ignore a challenge from Malfoy though, Harry sped up, plunging in with firmer strokes, his fingers locked tightly around his narrow hips. Malfoy grunted, fingernails sinking deeper into Harry's flesh as he did so.

" _Nnn, faster!"_

"Christ, you're demanding!"

"Too mu-uch for you, P-Potter?" Malfoy stuttered out on exhales as Harry rammed home.

"You fucking wish," panted Harry, giving it all he had and plowing deep into Malfoy's body.

Sweat pooled in the curve of Malfoy's lower back as he bowed it, arse thrust out for Harry to just take and take. He clearly didn't want it any other way than this – rough and fast and powerful. Large pale hands were splayed out bracing him against the wall, fingers clawing fruitlessly at the paint work; Harry even saw scratch marks being left there. Well, he'd see if they couldn't shake the foundations a bit.

Harry summoned all the strength he possibly had left and hammered mercilessly into Draco, gripping his hips brutally hard and focusing on the almost surprised sounding whimpers from Malfoy that got higher and higher. Harry's abs burned, his thigh muscles burned, his knees ached, his fingers pressed white in their grip and his balls were high and tight already, threatening to go off any moment and Harry was only keeping that back by sheer force of will.

Still pounding away, Harry changed his angle slightly and Malfoy's hand slammed against the wall, with a " _FUCK"_ , leaving a cracked indent in the plaster!

Malfoy's broken sex-rough voice almost tipped Harry over the edge, and he decided he could take no more. Releasing Draco's hip and reaching around he sacrificed a bit of speed for the ability to grasp Draco's erection, standing proud between his legs. When Harry closed his fingers around it, it was to find that Draco's cock was leaking copiously, a long string of precome dangling from the tip and more already dribbled down his shaft. Fuck, Draco was really, _really_ into this.

Oh Jesus Christ, he couldn't come yet, he _wouldn't_  come yet – not before Malfoy. With a fortitude he wasn't aware he possessed, he managed to rein himself in just enough to begin pumping away at Malfoy's cock, his fist tight and slippery, and the noises Malfoy was making into the wall raised about an octave, began to stutter, then stopped at exactly the moment he clenched around Harry. Hot streams of come coated Harry's knuckles. Draco's body clenched and and quaked and just as he let out a plaintiff kind of cry, Harry imploded.

All the hot, coiled, tight energy and pleasure that being with Malfoy had wound up suddenly released within him and he came, oh sweet merciful Merlin, how he came. It wracked him from top to toe and he made a noise more akin to being hurt than climaxing, although it was so intense it almost _was_ painful. Muscles screaming at him in protest, he continued to pump himself into Malfoy, hips now shaking as he started to come down from the most ridiculous orgasm he could remember.

For a moment he was just an overstimulated nervous system and a frantically beating heart.

Then Malfoy shifted in front of him, groaned a long low, fucked-out groan, and raised himself to lean his sweaty head back on Harry's shoulder. Every part where they connected gave a twinging, delicious jolt. Malfoy's body clamped involuntarily around Harry and they both hissed a breath through their teeth.

Harry's hands found their way sliding across Malfoy's taut stomach to hold him close as they both breathed together.

" _Fuck_... Don't take this the wrong way but that was amazing," panted out Harry before he could think to stop himself.

"How could I possibly take that the wrong way?" asked Malfoy, sounding thoroughly exhausted but incredulous.

"You'd take it in that arrogant way where you respond 'of course it was amazing, I'm _me'_."

Malfoy huffed a tired laugh, still leaning back against him, as Harry started to soften inside him. "I find it very hard to argue with facts, that's all." Harry slipped out and Malfoy took that moment to swivel around to face him with a bleary grin on his pointed, flushed face. "Or fly in the face of public opinion."

"The public does not think you're amazing," Harry said without heat, just to be contrary.

"No, but you do," Draco smiled devilishly, "and that's really the take away from this conversation, isn't it."

Harry rolled his eyes, but slipped one of his hands up to brush lightly against Malfoy's nipples, the other scratching just under his navel. Harry couldn't seem to keep his hands off him. "I should not have said anything," Harry muttered.

Draco squirmed and smirked. "You were okay too."

Harry raised his eyebrows incredulously. " _'Okay'_?! Really?"

"Well, maybe a bit more than okay," Malfoy said airily, attempting to get to his feet and trembling so hard he fell back down. Harry caught him and held him steady, despite his own muscular instability. "Maybe you were amazing too," Draco added, just as carelessly, as though he hadn't just collapsed because of how hard Harry had fucked him.

"God, you're a bastard," Harry murmured sleepily, with something that strayed a little too close to affection for his comfort.

"And you love it," came the equally tired retort.

After another moment or two Harry used the wall to hoist both himself and Malfoy up onto their feet, his knees protesting loudly about their vigorous stint on the hard floor and his thighs quaking from overwork. Malfoy's sweaty body leaned against him heavily and Harry found a foolish grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. Slipping Malfoy's arm over his shoulders and his own around Malfoy's middle he followed the muttered directions towards the bedroom.

They shuffled through the room, just about making it to the bed in time to collapse in a sweaty, bruised, exhausted mess atop the bedsheets.

Harry felt the welts and scratches on his tender skin as they shifted against the covers and the ache at the points where Draco had sucked bruises onto him. He was worn out, scratched up, bruised up and was sure to find marks on himself tomorrow that he couldn't even feel right now in his post-orgasm euphoria. Every twinge of pain felt utterly glorious. He smiled as he began to drift off to sleep, but opened his mouth.

"This was nice," he mumbled out, smiling.

A pillow thwumped him on the head and he laughed gently, all his muscles aching. Harry heard Malfoy join in his weary chuckle, before he passed out with the pillow still over his face.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed this small injection of smut ^.^ Every single kudos and comment is massively appreciated <3


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